American Dreamgirl
by SuperSailorCharon
Summary: Puerto Rico has lived in America's house for years and is completely disgusted with him. But after America rescues her one night, she begins to have a renewed respect for him. See what happens when America falls in love with someone other than himself! Rated T for language and suggestive themes.
1. Meet Puerto Rico

**So as I wrote this and came up with this concept, I was really drunk, so let's see where it goes. I don't own Hetalia or any of the characters (except for Puerto Rico) because if I did, America would be mine, bitches!**

"Wow, that was the longest meeting ever, I'm so glad it's over," America thought out loud as he entered his house. On the couch rested a lady with short, dark curly hair, olive skin, and big brown eyes. She wore a tight, purple silk dress that showed off every curve and she had a butt that would put Jennifer Lopez to shame. "Hey, Puerto Rico! You wanna make dinner tonight? I'm starving!" America asked. Seeing the scantily clad curvaceous woman always put a smile on his face.

"I ain't your slave!" Puerto Rico snapped as she turned down the volume on the TV.

"All right then," America said, his smile still not fading. "I'll just go out and pick up some hamburgers."

"I'm tired of hamburgers!" Puerto Rico whined. "I want arroz con pollo! We haven't had that in forever!"

"Well, do you want me to call up the Mexican place down the street? I can pick some up," America offered.

"Whatever, I'll get it myself, I'm going out dancing tonight anyway," Puerto Rico announced as she heaved herself off the couch and turned off the TV. "Besides, I'm not hungry anyway."

"That's okay, I'm sure there's lots of good stuff in the fridge!" America said as he went into the kitchen and began raiding the refrigerator of its contents. He took out a bucket of leftover fried chicken and then opened the freezer. "Hey! There's a container of ice cream in here that Canada left! Ah well, he won't miss it."

Meanwhile, Canada knocked on the front door of America's apartment. "Hello?" Canada asked quietly as he knocked softly. "I think I left my ice cream that Cuba gave me in your freezer. America? Hello?" He sighed and said, "Oh well. I guess he's not home." He picked up his pet polar bear Mr. Kumajirou. The polar bear merely asked, "Who are you?"

Back in America's house, Puerto Rico was looking in disgust at the blond man stuffing his face with whatever he managed to find in the fridge.

"You're disgusting," Puerto Rico groaned. "I'm going out again tonight. Don't expect me to come home."

"Okay, have fun!" America called after her as Puerto Rico grabbed her purse off the coat rack and walked out the front door. He knew she'd be back. She always came back.

American didn't think much as several hours passed and the fridge had been emptied of its contents. In fact, he'd fallen asleep on the couch in the living room while a basketball game on television progressed with feverish intensity as crowds cheered and both teams' scores were tied.

He continued to doze even after the final buzzer sounded. But only when the telephone rang did he spring up on the sofa, nearly falling off.

"Whoa! Did I miss the game? Who won?" He asked himself as he picked up the telephone. "Hey, this is America!" he greeted.

"Oh shit," said a familiar raspy female voice over the telephone. "I'm way too fucking drunk to go home tonight. You wanna come pick me up at the club? Cause if you don't I'm not coming home tonight," Puerto Rico told America in a slurred, subdued voice. "I met some nice guys who said they wanted me to go home with them or something."

"Hang on, Puerto Rico! I'll be right there! I'm the hero!" America announced as he put down the phone, clearly missing the receiver.

"Oh fuck that shit," Puerto Rico groaned in a garbled manner. Of course, America would never hear her.

Twenty minutes later, America had forced his way into the nightclub that Puerto Rico went to by pushing and shoving his way past the crowds. "Puerto Rico!" He called out over the booming sound of the music. He searched the nightclub for the wiry girl. She wasn't sitting at the bar or drunk-flirting with a stranger out on the dance floor.

"Just put her in the trunk!" America overheard a male voice behind him say. America turned around and saw two guys. Both of them were really strong and wore torn wife-beaters, lots of bling, and backwards baseball caps. One of them was carrying Puerto Rico's limp body in his arms.

"What do you wanna do with her first?" The guy carrying Puerto Rico asked. "She's so fucking hot!"

"What the hell do you think we're going to do?" His friend replied. "We fuck her and make a video out of it. And then we'll just leave her some place before she wakes up."

"Let her go!" America demanded. The two douche-bags stopped and gave America a dirty look and then started laughing.

"Wow, who the hell are you?" The guy carrying Puerto Rico's limp body asked through his laughter.

"I'm the hero! That's who I am!" America boasted as the guys continued to laugh.

"Wow, you're wasting our time," the other guy said. "We're gonna take jail bait home with us and have a little fun with her. We'll leave you whatever's left of her."

America summoned his abnormal strength and picked up the guy who just got done laughing at him. America picked him up over his head and threw the douche bag out the door. The douche bag with Puerto Rico in his arms now looked very scared.

At that moment, an attractive, skinny blonde girl stumbled by with a martini in her hand. This caused the douche bag to drop Puerto Rico to the floor and follow the blonde over to the bar.

"Forget this bitch, that one's way hotter!" The guy who had just dropped Puerto Rico decided as he chased the blonde over to the bar.

"Owww," Puerto Rico moaned as she slowly started to regain consciousness.

"Puerto Rico, are you okay?!" America asked as he bent down to pick the girl up. He lifted her up and held her in his arms.

"I don't feel so good, man," Puerto Rico said quietly. "The room's spinning. It's so awesome. I feel so sick. Shit."

Puerto Rico turned her head and threw up on the floor. America nearly dropped her again in surprise and disgust, but was able to hang on to her.

"You don't look so good," America told her. "We need to get you home!"

"I look fucking amazing, what are you talking about?" Puerto Rico asked as her eyes became heavy again. She lapsed back out of consciousness as America carried her all the way home. As he carried the girl, America thought to himself proudly, "The hero does it again."

The moment they arrived back home, America laid Puerto Rico in his bed. She was peacefully asleep. America couldn't help but smile as he looked at her doll-like face and climbed into bed next to her.

"Somebody has to make sure you take care of yourself. It's still gonna be me," America whispered to her as he shut off the lamp on his nightstand. Even though she wouldn't hear him, America could at least fall asleep knowing he protected Puerto Rico just as he had done in the past.

**Trivia: Puerto Rico's human name is Rosalinda Suarez. Her birthday is December 10 to symbolize her cessation from Spain. **


	2. The Tale of Chibi Puerto Rico

**SuperSailorCharon: For those who are Puerto Rican, I apologize for all the ugly stereotypes about Puerto Ricans you'll encounter in this story. I swear I'm not racist! In this chapter we find out how Puerto Rico came to live with America. Enjoy!**

Chibi Puerto Rico wandered about the beaches barefoot, enjoying the squishing of the sandy beach between her small toes. There was not a cloud in the sky and the breeze whipping off the Atlantic Ocean was balmy and cool. She smiled wondering if there was anything in the world that could be as nice as this moment. She didn't notice that someone was behind her.

"You must be a new country," a voice behind her said. The voice made her jump. "You must really like living on this island. It's so beautiful here."

Chibi Puerto Rico turned to get a better look at the stranger. He had fair skin, dark hair, and eyes that reminded her of the sea. The stranger seemed very kind.

"Who are you? I've never seen you here before," Chibi Puerto Rico said.

"I'm Spain," the stranger introduced. "What do I call you?"

"I'm Puerto Rico," Chibi Puerto Rico said meekly.

"You live in such a beautiful place," Spain repeated. "Does the sun always shine here?"

"Almost every day," Chibi Puerto Rico told him. She shyly walked across the sand to get a better look at the stranger. Although strangers made her uneasy, she also couldn't help but be fascinated by this man from another world. "Except when we have hurricanes."

"Do you get lonely here?" Spain asked.

"Sometimes," Chibi Puerto Rico admitted.

_Perfect! She'll have to let me be her big brother! _Spain thought to himself excitedly.

"Puerto Rico," Spain said gently as he knelt down to meet the child. "Would you like me to be your big brother?"

"Okay," Chibi Puerto Rico said quietly.

_That was easy! _Spain thought as a wide grin crossed his lips.

Not too long after Chibi Puerto Rico met her new big brother, she and Spain sat on the floor of a hut together talking. Chibi Puerto Rico noticed Spain drinking from an odd-looking bottle as he told stories of life back in Spain where the sun always shines over the land.

"Big Brother, what's that in your hand?" Chibi Puerto Rico asked Spain as he began to chug the fluid like it was drinkable gold.

"It's wine," Spain told her. "It's delicious! But you might be too young for it."

"No I'm not!" Chibi Puerto Rico protested. "I'm not a baby!"

Spain looked over at the little girl inquisitively. He shrugged his shoulders and handed the bottle to his little sister.

"Don't drink too much," Spain warned her as she lifted the bottle to her mouth, attempting not to spill a drop. "This might make you sick."

"Nuh uh! This is so yummy!" Chibi Puerto Rico cried. She began to gulp even more until a good portion of the wine was gone.

"Hey don't drink it all!" Spain laughed as he grabbed the bottle from Chibi Puerto Rico. He began to drink the rest.

"You drank it all!" Chibi Puerto Rico cried. "I hate you!"

"Shut up!" Spain snapped as he attempted to stand up. "You're just a stupid kid with no brains!"

"I'm running away!" Chibi Puerto Rico threatened as she ran out of the hut, her face bright red with anger.

"Get back here!" Spain bellowed as he stood up. He stumbled out of the hut in an attempt to chase Chibi Puerto Rico.

The next morning, Chibi Puerto Rico woke up on the floor of the hut in Spain's arms.

"My head and my tummy hurt," Chibi Puerto Rico complained. Spain's eyes opened and at first he stared at the little girl in confusion before letting out a laugh.

"You really are my little sister," Spain laughed. Chibi Puerto Rico smirked.

**Of course, Chibi Puerto Rico would soon discover that it's a bad idea to talk to strangers. Over the next few hundred years of Spanish rule, many natives were enslaved and others died when the Spanish settlers brought with them infectious diseases from Europe. **

"Big Brother!" Chibi Puerto Rico cried as she chased after Spain on the beach. "Where are you going?"

"I'm sailing back to Spain for a few months. I've got to tell my boss how great things are going here!" Spain told her. "I'll be back soon."

"You told me nothing was gonna change here! I was still gonna be happy and this was still gonna be a nice place if you were my Big Brother!" Chibi Puerto Rico whined.

"What's wrong?" Spain asked sympathetically as he laid a gentle hand on Chibi Puerto Rico's shoulder. "Aren't you happy?"

"No one's happy anymore," Chibi Puerto Rico. "My friends are working really, really hard and they're not being treated right and a bunch of my other friends are dying. It makes me so sad."

"I'm sorry," Spain apologized as he knelt down to lock his eyes with hers. "I didn't want it to be like this. My boss told me that making your friends work hard for me will bring us lots and lots of money though, and right now we need it. And if I had my way, your friends wouldn't be dying from diseases like this."

"I hope you're right," Chibi Puerto Rico said with a frown.

"Oh! Bonjour!" A new voice greeted in an accent that she had never heard before. She saw a man with pale skin and long, blond hair walking down the beach. He wore a blue cape.

"Ugh, more strangers," Chibi Puerto Rico complained.

"Hey! Go away France! I saw her first!" Spain barked.

"Oh, but she seems quite unhappy, no?" France said in a charming tone. He had with him a covered dish of some kind. "I think she would be much happier with a big brother like me."

France approached Chibi Puerto Rico and knelt down before her. He uncovered the dish to reveal a beautifully presented plate of escargot.

"Try a little bit!" France urged. "It's _magnifique_!"

Chibi Puerto Rico took a little bit of the garlicky snail and lifted it to her lips. Her face scrunched up in displeasure upon contact with the rubbery texture of the snail.

"That's so nasty!" Chibi Puerto Rico whined. France gasped.

"No one's ever said no to French food before!" France lamented.

Another stranger appeared on the beach. This one looked very strong and had a scar on his face. Chibi Puerto Rico hid behind Spain at the sight of the new stranger. This one smoked a pipe.

"Not you too Netherlands!" Spain groaned.

"She's mine!" Netherlands declared. "She's beautiful!"

The last stranger to appear had shaggy blond hair, bushy eyebrows, and emerald eyes.

"France, you bloody wanker, tempting little children with food," England scolded. "Netherlands, you just think nothing of tempting little girls. You're more of a wanker than France."

"Who asked you?" Barked Netherlands.

"England!" Spain hissed. "Your pirates are attempting to dethrone me again! I'm not an idiot! I know what you're up to! You've always been jealous of me!"

"Don't look at me!" England said innocently. "The bloody pirates are giving me trouble as well!"

Chibi Puerto Rico ran off from behind Spain as she let out a horrible scream. All four men needed a moment to pick their jaws off the floor as they watched her run off into the horizon. They then turned and stared at each other.

"Um…do you really want to be the big brother of someone that does that?" Netherlands asked.

"I was just going to ask the same question," England agreed.

"The little mademoiselle is all yours, Spain!" France said lightly with a laugh. "_Au revoir_! And good luck!"

**And so the brief custody battle between Spain, England, France, and Netherlands over Puerto Rico ended. Puerto Rico remained under Spanish rule until the end of the 1800's. To be continued…**


	3. I Swear I'm Not in Love

**SuperSailorCharon: This story's only been up for a few hours, but I hope the people who have read it so far have enjoyed it. As a reward, here's the third chapter.**

Puerto Rico's eyes opened up to a familiar sight as her head ached with every ray of sun that crept through the curtains of America's bedroom. Her stomach churned and every fiber of her being ached.

_I'm never drinking like that again_, Puerto Rico swore quietly to herself as she closed her eyes. She tossed and turned fervently until she realized that going back to sleep was futile.

She sat up in America's bed wondering how she got there in the first place. It had been years since she had slept in his room and was so used to her own.

"What the hell happened last night," she groaned. Vague memories of lying in America's arms flooded her brain like the colors of a pinwheel spinning too quickly. Her eyes scanned the room until they locked on a hamburger on a plate sitting on the nightstand. Next to the plate was a note. It read:

"I don't get hung over, but I hear junk food is a good hangover cure, so I thought you'd like this when you woke up. I have another conference to go to. See you tonight. Love, America. PS: Can you go to the grocery store for me today?"

Puerto Rico moaned.

"Can that man think of anything besides food?!" She complained. Even so, she did forget to pick up some arroz con pollo before going to the club and hadn't eaten anything since then. Her body was begging for anything other than alcohol.

Reluctantly picking up the hamburger, Puerto Rico bit into it. Her stomach instantly felt satisfied although her head continued to spin. She sighed as she drew the covers off of her and rolled out of bed.

The entire day, Puerto Rico couldn't get America off her mind. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about him, even with all of his annoying antics from his obsessions with junk food and superheroes to his cocky demeanor and sloppy behavior.

As she brushed her hair and spent pretty much the whole morning on her makeup, Puerto Rico attempted to piece together the events of the night before and the small gesture of a hamburger near her bed. She finally stared into her reflection in the vanity mirror in her room and sighed.

"He really does care about me," she acknowledged.

Puerto Rico went into the kitchen where checked the fridge and rolled her eyes. Leave it to America to rely on takeout enough to hardly ever bother with grocery shopping and then eat what little food makes it into the fridge. She knew what she wanted from the store. Rice, seafood, chicken, and maybe stuff to make jelly with, if she was in the mood. As for America, she knew what he wanted from the store. He was a really predictable man.

But it didn't hurt to ask him and make sure…

Meanwhile, the conference of the countries was about to commence and it was exactly the same as before. Italy was trying to convince his brother Romano to eat the pasta he'd made for lunch, England and France were arguing because England didn't want to hear the details about France's most recent sexual conquest, Russia was muttering to himself how everyone would eventually become one with him, Poland was babbling on about his most recent shopping spree, and America was trying to pitch his ideas to solve all the world's problems. As usual, everyone was talking over each other (all except for Greece who had fallen asleep with his head on the table in a puddle of his own drool and Canada who just sat quietly in a corner with his pet polar bear going unnoticed) and Germany was the only one successful of containing the chaos.

"I call this meeting to order! You know ze rules! No talking while someone else is talking! Everyone will take turns speaking and may not speak for more than ten minutes!" Germany demanded as he pounded his fists on the table.

As soon as Germany finished barking orders at the other countries, Puerto Rico sauntered through the door with a pen and a small notepad in hand. All eyes locked on her.

"Who let you in here?" Germany demanded! "You're not a real country!"

"That sweet little boy in the sailor hat let me in," Puerto Rico told him.

"That little wanker!" England bellowed angrily.

"Little sister?" Spain asked, not believing his eyes at the sight of the curvaceous woman in the room. "I haven't seen you in a long time."

Puerto Rico ignored him and made a beeline for America. She rubbed his back and whispered seductively in his ear.

"I'm going to the store," she whispered. "Do you want anything?"

"I need more hamburger buns," America told her. "Only losers eat their hamburger without the bun. Oh, and can you get more candy for the dish in my room? That thing's been empty for days!"

Puerto Rico turned and winked at him. "Oh, sí. You got it, baby."

She swaggered away towards the door as America turned bright red watching her rear end swing every time she took a step. Puerto Rico dropped her pen.

"Oops!" Puerto Rico said coyly as she bent down and picked it up. As she did so, her dress slid up, exposing her smooth, round butt, barely covered by a lacey purple thong. She turned around and looked at America and blew him a kiss.

"I'll see you tonight, babe," she said as her brown eyes locked on America's blue ones. She disappeared out the door as an awkward silence fell over the conference room.

In the hallway, Puerto Rico was greeted by Sealand.

"Muchos gracias, Niño," Puerto Rico said sweetly. "I still don't understand why they don't let you in, though."

"I think it's because I'm not a real country to them," Sealand admitted.

"Well, neither am I," Puerto Rico reminded him. "I'm just someone who lives with America and used to be Spain's little hermana."

"My papa Sweden says I'm a real country though, but he won't let me attend the meetings until I'm a little older," Sealand confessed.

"Oh, si," Puerto Rico sympathized. "I will see you later, though. I have to go. Muchos gracias."

With that, Puerto Rico walked down the hall and never looked back, her mind still reeling.

_I haven't flirted with America like that in a long time. Why did I enjoy it so much? I shouldn't have. He's disgusting and annoying and he acts like I'm his damn maid sometimes. So why is it every time I think of him today, I feel like I did the first time I met him? I swear I'm not in love. I can't be in love with him. _

Back in the conference room, no one said anything still.

"Wow," Netherlands said at last breaking the silence. "I'm almost sorry I let that one get away."

"Oh, as am I," France sighed wistfully. "Spain, your little sister grew up to be a lovely mademoiselle. I want to lick her face!"

"She may be Spain's little sister, but she lives in my house!" America reminded him.

"And someday I'm going to claim her for Mother Russia," Russia quietly decided as the freak childish grin never once left his face.

"She's beautiful, isn't she brother?" Italy said admiringly. Normally Romano would have some sort of smart-ass remark to combat his brother's irritating stupidity, but today he had no words, only a nod of agreement.

More and more people began commenting on Puerto Rico's beauty and feminine charms.

"Everyone shut up! Shut up! All of you!" Germany ordered in an attempt to keep the meeting on track.

"Excuse me. I need to use the restroom," Japan announced discreetly as he took the box of tissues off the table and made a beeline for the men's room.

"Oh! Wait for me!" France called eagerly as he followed Japan. Pretty soon the line outside the men's room got pretty long and most of the male nations were lined up. Germany was about ready to bang his head against the table in frustration, but instead he already left the conference room after announcing he was taking a beer break.

"I don't understand, America-aru," China said in confusion. "If she's lived in your house for so long, why don't you just ask her to marry you?"

"That's a great idea! China, you're a genius!" America said with elation. With that, he sprang out of his chair and flew out the door. China merely sat there with a smug look on his face after being called a genius by someone who normally knows nothing about humility.


	4. I Do but I Don't

**SuperSailorCharon: So I wanna thank my friend Chobi-chan89 for leaving me a review for every chapter. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to her! And for those that are confused about why Puerto Rico flirted with America, you'll figure that out within the next two chapters…I do not own Hetalia, but all my OCs are my property. **

She couldn't get him off her mind, no matter how badly she wanted to. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't leave his memory behind. In fact, Puerto Rico found herself giggling more and more at America's antics, from how he would get scared if she wanted to watch a horror movie with him to how he would always beat her whenever they played video games together.

The fact that she was actually willing to spend this much time at home with him rather than getting wasted at the nightclub was something else all together. In fact, she didn't once feel the need to get drunk.

And on one of these nights that she decided to stay home, she waited up for America to come back from the gym. He kept saying he'd needed to lose weight, when really he looked just fine to Puerto Rico. She sat in the living room on the sofa with the radio blasting dance music. The instant America walked through the front door Puerto Rico walked over to him seductively. He was wearing his usual workout shirt that showed off his ripped arms.

"What's this about?" America asked in his usual oblivion. "Hey! I love this song!" He pointed out.

"I feel like dancing!" Puerto Rico said seductively as she wiggled her hips and swayed her body.

"I just got back from the gym!" America reminded her. "I'm too tired to dance."

"Oh?" Puerto Rico asked coyly. "You had your workout. Now it's time for a little cardio."

"Well, I didn't get on the treadmill today, so why not?" America relented. He began to dance and sway with her to the beat of the music.

"Oh wow, it's really hot in here," America noticed.

"Sí! Muy caliente!" Puerto Rico agreed.

"No, I mean I'm burning up," America said uncomfortably. He took off his workout shirt revealing his ripped upper body with his slightly pudgy gut. Puerto Rico didn't mind. She thought he was absolutely gorgeous in this moment, a moment she wished she could freeze forever. They continued to dance for hours that night until they both ended up falling asleep together on the couch.

Yet no matter how much she endlessly craved staring endlessly into the pools of those blue eyes, Puerto Rico refused to believe she was falling in love with him.

The telephone rang one night while America was busy working on a bomber plane that he wanted to show off. Puerto Rico answered the telephone in her room.

"Hola?" She greeted.

"Puerto Rico? It's me, your hermano," A familiar voice on the other end began. The pit of her stomach dropped when she heard the voice of her estranged big brother. Even with his insensitive cruelty towards her home and her friends, Puerto Rico couldn't stay mad at him forever. Still, the memory of him sometimes made her wish she'd never seen his face that day on the beach.

"Spain?" Puerto Rico asked. "It's been a long time since we've spoken and the last time I saw you was a few days ago. How have you been?"

"Muy bien, sí" Spain told her. "And you? Do you like living at America's house?"

"Can you keep a secret?" Puerto Rico asked.

"Only if you can keep one," Spain said in return.

"I've been spending more and more time with America," Puerto Rico confessed. "And I don't know why. I haven't done that in a long time."

"Why not?"

"Because the man's an insensitive pig who only thinks about himself and junk food," Puerto Rico replied flatly. "I don't know how to feel, but I feel like how it was when he first brought me to live with him."

"Were you in love with him back then?" Spain asked.

"Sí, I was," Puerto Rico admitted. "But then he broke my heart when I saw him for what he is."

"Then I should probably warn you that he wants to marry you," Spain told her. At that moment, Puerto Rico needed a moment to pick her jaw up off the floor.

"No, no," Puerto Rico stammered in an icy panic. "Did he tell you?"

"That's all he could talk about after the world conference last week was how you've been living in his house for years and now he wants to marry you," Spain informed her.

"I don't want to get married! Do I want to compromise everything I am for _that_?!" Puerto Rico spat. "I can't get married! I'd be spending forever living with a very selfish man!"

"Then why do you still live with him?" Spain asked, getting irritated.

"Maybe because I just like his money," Puerto Rico admitted. "But then again, he spends so much he probably won't have any left. Maybe it's because he told me I'd never last on my own and I believed him? Hermano, tell me what I should do."

"I already did when you were small, and you lost your chance," Spain reminded her.

"You're not still mad at me for that are you?" Puerto Rico demanded. There was a long pause between them.

"No," Spain sighed. "But just remember that when you say you don't want to compromise everything you are for America, just remember who made you who you are in the first place," Spain reminded her. "Adios," he quickly added

"Adios, hermano," Puerto Rico whispered as she hung up the phone. She walked over to the bedside table and knelt down before the shrine of the Virgin Mary.

"Please let it not be true," Puerto Rico prayed. "Let it not be true."

Little did Puerto Rico realize that America had been outside the door to her bedroom listening to her phone conversation, or at least the part where she said she didn't want to get married. He stood there outside of Puerto Rico's closed bedroom door with a small black box in his hand and a sad heart beating in his chest. He walked back to his room in defeat and set the black box on his nightstand. He took off his glasses and set those down too when he walked over to the mirror.

"I don't get it," America sighed to himself. "What doesn't she see in me? I always try to be her hero, but what am I doing wrong?" He took off his shirt and began examining his body. "Is it because I'm not built enough? I knew I should've gone to the gym this afternoon," he lamented. His blue eyes lit up when he suddenly got a good idea. "I've got it! I'll take her on a romantic trip and spoil her silly. We'll have so much fun together that she'll _have_ to marry me!"


	5. No Longer Mi Familia

**SuperSailorCharon: Here in this chapter you'll find out how Chibi Puerto Rico and Spain became estranged. As in true Hetalia form this is partly historically accurate, but pretty much sped up so that anyone could understand the gist of it. I do not own Hetalia or any characters except for Puerto Rico. **

**As the years went by, Chibi Puerto Rico was still very unhappy with her life on the island with her big brother Spain. Many more natives were being enslaved and as a result, many of them were threatening an uprising. To prevent this, Spain reinstated the Royal Decree of Grace of 1815 to entice more and more European settlers to populate Puerto Rico. **

"Big Brother! Mi hermano!" Chibi Puerto Rico complained as she chased Spain down the beach. Ever since Spain taught her the language, she began using more and more Spanish. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to greet some of the new settlers," Spain told her. "Don't you like having more people live on the island? Now you won't ever be lonely again."

"But all my friends who do live here are getting hurt or they're dying or," Puerto Rico protested before she was cut off by France.

"Well, Spain, I do love how you've handled things here," France complimented. "Even if I can't have this island, at least I can build a nice little home here when I'm in the mood for a romantic getaway. This island is très joli!"

"As long as you promise your allegiance to the Roman Catholic Church, you can have all the land you want," Spain promised.

"That is if the Italy brothers don't take it first," France scoffed over the sound of the Italy brothers arguing over where they should build a pasta shop.

"Hermano, if you don't stop this right now, I'm running away!" Chibi Puerto Rico threatened. "I'll get the rest of my friends and we'll become our own country and you can leave us alone!"

_I better be careful, _Spain thought. _Cuba's already mad at me for what I'm doing over there. _

"But I thought this is what you wanted?" Spain asked her. "Besides, you're too little to be a country all by yourself. You'll never survive. Bigger countries will try to hurt you and you don't have much money. With me, you'll always have lots of money. Don't you want that?"

"No! I never asked you to hurt all my friends by making them work really hard until they drop dead," Chibi Puerto Rico argued.

"All right, if it makes you happy, your friends are free to go," Spain promised. "They don't need to work very hard anymore for no money."

"You mean it, mi hermano?" Chibi Puerto Rico asked as her brown eyes grew wide with promise.

"I mean it," Spain said flatly. His tone became gentle as he said, "Now come here and give your hermano a hug."

"Can I at least try to be a country by myself for a little while?" Chibi Puerto Rico asked. "It'll be fun!"

Spain saw the look in Chibi Puerto Rico's big, innocent brown eyes. He put his hands on her shoulders and said, "If you want to, you can try it as long as you write to me every day and tell me how you're doing. You can let me know if you need help."

**Chibi Puerto Rico enjoyed one week as an overseas province of Spain. However, that all changed one day when a pale-skinned stranger showed up. But this one wasn't like the other ones that came before him.**

America walked along the beaches of the island and wondered why he hadn't been here before.

"This place is great!" America beamed. "I could easily start a navy here that'll be better than England's! I wonder who owns this place. Whoever it is, they're really lucky!"

Just then, Spain and Chibi Puerto Rico showed up.

"Who's this loser?" Chibi Puerto Rico asked. "Please tell me he's not here to trash my island, too!"

"Oh! Hello there!" America greeted. "This is such a beautiful island! Where am I, exactly?"

"You idiot, you're in Puerto Rico," Spain told him. "And this is my island! I already gave you the Philippines and Guam! What more do you want?!"

"Hey! It's my island too, you know!" Chibi Puerto Rico interrupted. But Spain ignored her.

"Well, is it for sale?" America asked, the smile never leaving his face. "If it is, I'm prepared to offer you one hundred and sixty million dollars!"

"Spain, you can't just sell me to this guy!" Chibi Puerto Rico protested. America looked down at the little girl and smiled.

"You're very lucky to live on such a nice island," America said as he approached the child and patted her on the head. Chibi Puerto Rico folded her arms angrily across her chest. "Tell me, has Spain been a good brother to you?"

Chibi Puerto Rico thought long and hard about that.

"No," Chibi Puerto Rico admitted as Spain's mouth hung open. A look of hurt crossed his face. "He invites all these strangers to live on my island and they make all my friends who've lived here for years do all their dirty work and some of my friends get really sick and end up dying."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," America said sympathetically. "I can fix that you know. I'm a hero."

"A hero?"Chibi Puerto Rico asked as her eyes widened with curiosity. "What kind of hero?"

"Oh that's just muy bien," Spain groaned. "Chibi Puerto Rico, don't listen to this guy! He just wants to take you away from me!"

"That's not true!" America protested. "I just want a place to keep my navy! Just let me do that, and I'll leave you alone to do whatever you want. You and your friends can all live in peace."

"That sounds so nice!" Chibi Puerto Rico cried.

"He's lying to you!" Spain cried. "Don't go with him, Chibi Puerto Rico! Stay with me!"

"Hey! She's her own woman! Let her decide!" America assured him. Chibi Puerto Rico felt a smile touch her face upon being called "her own woman".

"I'm not giving her to you!" Spain spat.

"You don't have to!" America reminded him. "She wants to leave!"

"You and what army will take her?" Spain asked. He shouldn't have asked that because a moment later America was flanked by hundreds of really strong navy men.

"Aye, aye, aye," Spain said nervously. "All right. I'll give her to you. I've already had to give up Cuba anyway." Before he walked away towards the ship that would take him back to Spain, he looked down at Chibi Puerto Rico and said, "I hope you're happy, mi hermana. I taught you everything. I taught you how to cook. I taught you how to get drunk. And this is how you repay me. Adios."

"You're not mi familia anymore!" Chibi Puerto Rico called after him as tears ran down her face. America took pity on the little girl and held the child in his arms.

"Don't cry," he told her. "You don't need him anymore. You're with me now. I'll take care of you. I'll make sure you're happy."

"I don't," Chibi Puerto Rico repeated. "I don't need him anymore."

**SuperSailorCharon: Wasn't that sad? And until I receive reviews from someone who ISN'T Chobi-Chan89, I'm not updating again. **


	6. Welcome to Jamaica

**SuperSailorCharon: Because I'm impatient, I decided to upload another chapter. I'm sorry for being mean to Chobi-Chan89. I love your reviews! I'm shocked with how fast I'm cracking out this story, especially since I'm almost finished! Enjoy! I own nothing except Puerto Rico and Jamaica.**

America and Puerto Rico checked into their room on the cruise ship they'd be going on. America had booked the fanciest and most extravagant cruise ship that sailed through the Caribbean. He wanted every chance he got to make Puerto Rico happy. Of course, he was about to realize that it wasn't going to be smooth sailing.

"This is beautiful," Puerto Rico gasped as soon as she opened the door and saw the deluxe suit that she and America would be sharing for the week. She knew exactly what America was planning, but figured that as long as he was spoiling her silly, for now it didn't matter. She flounced onto the king-sized bed and sighed contentedly.

"I hope you like it!" America said with a smile. "It's the best suite on board!"

"I don't wanna leave yet," Puerto Rico sighed as she stretched out on the bed. "Let's just stay here for the afternoon and order room service. This is so relaxing."

"Are you kidding? We haven't gotten to check out the buffet yet! And there's so much to do here! There's a gigantic swimming pool with a really tall water slide, and everything!" America laughed, his excitement not leaving his sapphire eyes.

"Fine then," Puerto Rico insisted. "I'll stay here and order room service. This room is way too nice to leave right now."

So that's exactly what Puerto Rico did. In fact, Puerto Rico didn't mind the fact that she spent most of the day by herself doing exactly what she wanted, whether it was going to the spa, or soaking in the hot tub while America spent most of his time running back and forth between the buffet and the gym (and every once in a while, the giant waterslide).

She kept reminding herself that she was fine spending most of her time without America. That didn't change the fact that for the first time in a while, Puerto Rico went to the bar and got very, very drunk.

"Gimme another slippery nipple, bitch! I ain't got all night!" Puerto Rico swore at the bartender as she sat on the barstool hunched over.

"Ma'am, if you don't stop that, I'm going to ask you to leave the bar. You're being really belligerent," the bartender told her.

"Whoa, check out that Mexican chick getting hammered," a college-aged guy at the end of the bar said to his girlfriend. Puerto Rico got up from the barstool and made a beeline for the end of the bar.

"Oh no you didn't!" Puerto Rico slurred as she tried to stand up. "I don't come from no Mexico! I'm Puerto Rico!"

"Calm down honey, he was just," the guy's girlfriend said before Puerto Rico interrupted her.

"Oh, no you didn't, bitch!" Puerto Rico spat. "Don't you be telling me to calm down!"

Just then, America walked into the bar and walked up behind her.

"Oh! There you are! I was just gonna get a drink before going to bed," America told her.

"You can't tell me what to do!" Puerto Rico hissed.

"Is your girlfriend always like this?" A chesty blonde girl asked America.

"Oh, don't worry, she's only like this when she drinks," America assured her. "She'll be fine tomorrow."

Puerto Rico pushed America out of the way and went toe-to-toe with the blonde.

"Oh no you didn't!" Puerto Rico said as she got up in the blonde girl's face. "You wanna go, bitch? Don't you be lookin' at my man!" Puerto Rico took out her hoop earrings and balled her fist as the blonde girl walked away slowly.

"Come on," America coaxed as he lifted up Puerto Rico and carried her off. "You're coming to bed."

At this point, Puerto Rico was in tears.

"You can't tell me what to do!" Puerto Rico screamed. "You can't tell me what to do!"

Luckily, it didn't take very long to get Puerto Rico to fall asleep once America had taken her back to the suite.

Finally, in the middle of the week, the cruise ship docked in Montego Bay. It would remain there for the entire day. Standing on the beach watching the ship was a beautiful, tall woman with dark skin, a beautiful face, and coarse black hair with beads in it. She wore lots of jewelry and a dress in the colors of the Jamaican flag. Jamaica stood on the sandy beach and her beautiful face scrunched up into an expression of disgust as she caught sight of the cruise ship. As soon as she saw America and Puerto Rico disembark, she shot them the dirtiest look possible.

"What are _you_ doing here, mon?" Jamaica asked America venomously.

"I thought I'd take Puerto Rico on a fun vacation!" America replied, completely oblivious to the fact that America was the last person Jamaica felt like seeing at the moment.

"You come here every year and make a mess and I don't get anything in return," Jamaica reminded him.

"I always thought Jamaicans made lots of money off of tourists," Puerto Rico assumed.

"Oh no, mon," Jamaica continued. "Tourists come here all the time, yet we don't get any money. The tour companies get all the money and who do you think owns all the tour companies?" She asked as she shot America a scathing glance.

"Don't look at me!" America defended. "My brother England owns a bunch of them, too!"

"What do you want to do first?" Puerto Rico asked America.

"Laying out in the sun and getting an awesome tan sounds like a good idea right now," America suggested.

"That's so boring!" Puerto Rico groaned.

"Well you don't have to lay out on the beach with me," America reminded her. "You can go by yourself."

"You said you wanted to spend time with me today!" Puerto Rico protested.

"Don't you like spending time by yourself?" America asked. "I thought you did."

"Come on, Puerto Rico, let's go somewhere else, mon," Jamaica suggested. "Your man clearly doesn't want to spend time with you and he's being an idiot!"

"Hey!" America protested as he watched Puerto Rico and Jamaica walk away. Of course, his attention was diverted when he noticed China walking down the beach. The normally cheerful country looked very annoyed.

"What are you doing here, China?" America asked.

"I'm on my way home," China grumbled. "I tried asking Jamaica if she'd let me build a vacation home here. I even told her I'd pay her good money, but she said no."

Meanwhile, Jamaica and Puerto Rico were sitting in Jamaica's house, a small hut lit with incense and candles. Together they ate jerk chicken and listened to Bob Marley in a smug, sisterly way. Puerto Rico looked down on most of the other Caribbean nations (she thought Cuba was a disgusting fatass), but there was something about Jamaica she really liked.

"I don't get why you've been living at that idiot's house," Jamaica said as she lit up a joint and began to smoke it.

"He took me in when I had nowhere else to go," Puerto Rico told her. "My house was destroyed by the hurricane and…"

"I still don't get it though, mon," Jamaica told her as she handed her the joint. "You wanted to spend time with him today, and he ignored you. Why do you still put up with him when he's so selfish, mon?"

"Not sure," Puerto Rico said as she took a long draw of the joint. "Maybe because I like his money and I got nowhere else to go."

She knew exactly why she stayed with him at that point. Who else could put up with her mood swings? Who else would put her to bed when she had too much to drink? Who else could tolerate her bull shit? In fact, he put up with her crap so easily, that she almost felt guilty for not putting up with his.

"The good news is at least he's easy to seduce," Puerto Rico laughed. Jamaica raised her brow.

"If he's not too stupid to realize you're seducing him," Jamaica pointed out.

"That's the whole reason we started fighting when I came to live with him," Puerto Rico told her. "He stopped paying attention to me and started falling in love with himself!"

"Sounds like you need a little help," Jamaica said.

"Yeah, how do you get a man who falls in love with himself to fall in love with you?" Puerto Rico wondered. "If I knew I wouldn't have to do stupid shit to get his attention."

"I've got an idea," Jamaica said as she got up from where she was sitting and went over to a small chest filled with herbs. She picked up a cloth bag and threw the herbs in their before sewing the bag up. She handed the sachet of herbs to Puerto Rico.

"What is this?" Puerto Rico asked. The herbs smelled heavenly and sweet, unlike any she'd ever been exposed to in her life.

"It's filled with herbs that make a man crazy for a woman, mon," Jamaica told her. "I'm not doing it for him. I do it for you." Puerto Rico put the herb satchel in her purse.

"We Caribbeans need to stick together more often," Puerto Rico realized as she continued to eat her jerk chicken and smoke pot while Jamaica went to work on sewing up a doll.

"What are you doing?" Puerto Rico asked.

"I'm gonna make America pay me back for pissing me off, mon," Jamaica announced as she began stitching up a little doll that looked like America. She began sticking small pins into every inch of the doll. The pins weren't in the doll too deeply, but just deep enough so that they stood up on their own.

After Puerto Rico finished her jerk chicken and smoked the rest of the joint that Jamaica had given her, the two lady countries walked out on the beach to find America on a lounge chair. His eyes were closed behind his glasses and his skin was lobster red to the point of blistering. He was sound asleep.

"This will be funny when he wakes up, mon," Jamaica giggled.

She didn't miss a beat because America woke up the moment after Jamaica said that. He yawned and stretched out and attempted to flop over on the lounge chair when he realized what had been done to his beautiful pale skin.

"Oh no!" America screamed. "My beautiful skin! I used the best suntan lotion I could buy! How did this happen!?"

Puerto Rico couldn't help but giggle even if she did feel rather sorry for America. He looked absolutely miserable and his skin was so red you could land a plane on it.

The Caribbean sun began to sink past the horizon and America and Puerto Rico boarded the boat. Once they were back in the suite, America flopped onto his stomach on the king-sized bed. Puerto Rico's beautiful doll-like face turned up in an expression of sympathy.

"You poor baby," Puerto Rico cooed.

"I don't feel so good," America groaned as he sniffed. "I'm not supposed to get sick. Heroes don't get sick!"

"Quit being a baby, you just got sun-poisoning," Puerto Rico told him. She disappeared into the bathroom and came out with a bottle of aloe. "Now be still," she instructed as she poured some aloe onto her hands and began rubbing it on America's bare, red back. America soon stopped protesting.

"Something smells really, really good," America murmured as he caught the faint whiff of the herbs in Puerto Rico's purse, which was still strapped around her. His pained expression turned into one of pleasure. His eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep as Puerto Rico applied the cool, soothing aloe.

Puerto Rico couldn't help but smile adoringly as she took off America's glasses and put them on the bedside table.

**Trivia: Even though this is the only chapter Jamaica appears in, she is my OC so I thought I'd give her a real name and a birthday. Jamaica's human name is Santianna Grimes and her birthday is August 6. **


	7. Te Amo, Te Adoro

**SuperSailorCharon: Here's the next chapter! I will be postponing this for a month or so while I work on a novel for NaNoWriMo but at least this story's almost done. Here we go! I do not own Hetalia. If I did, America would be all mine. **

"Where are you going, America?" Chibi Puerto Rico asked as America walked down the beach towards the dock.

"To war!" America answered excitedly. "I'm going to go be a hero and save my country and anyone else that needs help, too!"

"Will you ever come back?" Chibi Puerto Rico asked.

America turned to face the child and tousled her black hair. "Don't worry, I promise I'll come back for you. This'll be easy."

If it were anyone else in the world, Chibi Puerto Rico would've paid no mind if they went off to fight in a war and never came back. But something about America was different. He could make her laugh without even trying. Every time she looked up at those sapphire eyes, a warm sensation flooded her, making her olive face turn bright red.

America climbed aboard a navy boat and Chibi Puerto Rico sat on the dock where watched the boat disappear past the Caribbean horizon.

It was nice to have some time alone on the island. It had been too many years since the island wasn't constantly being bombarded by strangers from Europe. Now, Chibi Puerto Rico could do exactly as she pleased. She could go into the jungle and watch the green Puerto Rican parrots fly from tree to tree. She could sit under the shade of the beautiful red flamboyan tree or pick hibiscus flowers without a care in the world. She could take a cool swim in the surrounding oceans and no one would bother her.

Despite this, however, Chibi Puerto Rico was still disappointed that the beauty of her island was tarnished by the settlers who had built homes and roads and businesses. Never again would she trust strangers from strange places.

Yet Chibi Puerto Rico still couldn't help but feel lonely for America. He didn't visit the island very often. In fact, most of his navy crew members were stationed here and he would only visit from time to time to check in.

When he did visit though, Chibi Puerto Rico was always excited to see him. Even though America complained about the size of the hut, he was still grateful that Chibi Puerto Rico let him stay with her, especially because she cooked for him, and he learned to love her cooking. She would make him dishes that Spain taught her how to make, but adding in an infusion of ingredients found on the island. America loved it when Chibi Puerto Rico made him a dessert called polvo de amor, or "love powder", by mixing up the meat of a coconut with lots of sugar in a giant kettle.

Sometimes he'd insist on going into San Juan. She would give in, and the two of them would spend the day in the city. Even though Chibi Puerto Rico was disappointed in the sprawling civilization on her little island, when she spent time with America, she came to accept that the city wasn't so terrible.

One night, Chibi Puerto Rico decided to sit on the dock and wait for America to return. She waited, watching the horizon, but no one was there. She did this every night until nights turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Eventually, she lost hope that he'd ever return and stopped going to the dock all together.

One night, however, everything changed.

The sky grew dark and stormy. Chibi Puerto Rico sat outside of her hut watching the sky grow dark and menacing as she tended to the bonfire.

The earth beneath her began to quake. At first it began as subtle tremors, but in an instant the small quakes turned into massive rocking and shaking. Chibi Puerto Rico was knocked on her feet and her hut was reduced to a pile of straw and stick.

Then the earth became still once again. But not for long.

A massive tidal wave began careening towards the island as a result of the earthquake. The wave was so huge it looked like it could swallow the whole island and all that lived on it. Chibi Puerto Rico screamed and began running inland.

She couldn't outrun the wave. The next thing she heard was a deafening crash of water hitting the land and the sounds of screams echoing the skies. Water engulfed her from top to bottom as she struggled to keep her head above the water that carried her at breakneck speeds. She watched in horror as some other people struggled to keep themselves afloat but in vain. Someone collided with the top of a palm tree and was knocked unconscious.

Finally, the wave subsided. Chibi Puerto Rico landed somewhere inland on the floor of the jungle. Several trees were uprooted and knocked over. The bleeding body of a native man rested nearby in a crumpled heap. Another white man had been crushed by a toppling palm tree. Chibi Puerto Rico wanted to scream, cry, do something, but her lungs wouldn't let her. The effort of trying to stay afloat took its toll on her small body. She wanted to run for help, but her limbs felt like jelly. She collapsed onto the beaches and unconsciousness claimed her.

When Chibi Puerto Rico woke up, she woke up in a soft, white bed in a quiet, white room. No one else was there except for a nurse who scribbled something on a chart.

"Oh, you're awake now," the nurse smiled.

"Where am I?" Chibi Puerto Rico screamed as she

"This is a navy hospital," the nurse told her. "The American navy set up a hospital here for those who got hurt in the tsunami. Now you lie still. You need your rest."

Chibi Puerto Rico's ears perked up. Maybe if the American navy had set up a hospital here, maybe America had come back from the war.

But why wasn't he here? Maybe he forgot about her. That was probably what happened.

Chibi Puerto Rico's eyes drifted shut and sleep claimed her once again.

Time passed. And eventually, America did return to the island when he heard not only about the earthquake and the tsunami, but the two hurricanes that struck the island over the summer.

"Wow, this place is a dump," America said to himself in disappointment. "This island was so awesome the last time I was here and now it looks like someone came and trashed the place." He looked around and began walking along the beaches, wondering what else he could do to help those in need. The navy had already done a good job in treating those who had serious injuries, but so many people were still displaced and without homes.

"America?" A soft, feminine voice asked behind him. It startled him enough to make him jump. He turned around and saw a beautiful woman with short, curly dark hair, olive skin, and piercing brown eyes. Her body was soft and curvaceous. And even though her face was smudged with dirt and her dress was torn, she was still the most beautiful woman that America had ever seen in his life, and he had definitely seen lots of pretty women while at war.

"Well, hello there," America said flirtatiously as his cheeks began to flush with the color of his attraction for this beautiful stranger. "You're the most beautiful thing I've seen on this island all day!"

"America, don't you recognize me?" The woman asked him. "It's me, Puerto Rico."

"Whoa!" America gasped as he took a good, hard look at the woman who was still a little child when he left her behind. "You're gorgeous now! Has it really been that long?"

"What, I wasn't gorgeous before?" Puerto Rico asked tartly.

"No, well, I mean," America stammered, searching for the right words to say. He finally added, "I heard about what happened here on the island. Are you okay?"

"No," Puerto Rico replied as she rolled her eyes. "Do you think I look okay?"

"I think you beautiful," America told her. "It's this island that looks like a dump."

"You're telling me," Puerto Rico murmured. "I lost my house in the earthquake. I've been trying to rebuild it, but it's hard when the hurricanes keep knocking it down."

Just then, America got a great idea. He couldn't save everyone on the island, but if he could be a hero to this beautiful woman, than he knew exactly how to do it.

"Puerto Rico, if you can't rebuild your hut, do you want to come live with me at my house?" America offered.

Puerto Rico's jaw hit the floor.

"I have nowhere else to go," Puerto Rico reminded him. "Do I have a choice?"

"Well, if you can't rebuild your hut, I guess you don't," America pointed out. "But it'll be okay, and you'll love my place. There's always lots to do and I have lots and lots of good food. You'll love it!"

Puerto Rico looked behind her at the island where she was born and grew up, completely demolished by natural disaster. She wasn't sure what she would be getting into by going home with America, but she had no other place to call home anymore, like a ship without a port.

"All right," Puerto Rico agreed. "I'll go with you."

He took her soft, smooth hand in his and led her aboard the ship that set sail for New York City. The journey seemed endless, but they finally reached the United States. Puerto Rico's brown eyes took in the sight of her new surroundings with wonder, curiosity, and fear.

"Well, here we are!" America said as he fumbled with the keys to the front door of his house. He unlocked the front door and America and Puerto Rico quickly disappeared inside. Puerto Rico couldn't have been happier to be in this safe haven than out on the streets of New York where inquisitive stares sized her up and down.

"Let me show you around," America offered.

America took Puerto Rico by the hand and led her upstairs where he showed her to her room.

"This is where you'll sleep," America told her. Puerto Rico walked over to the queen-sized bed with silk sheets and sprawled out on it. She'd never felt anything so soft in her life.

"Oh, sí," Puerto Rico sighed happily. "Estoy muy contento."

"I have no idea what you just said, but okay!" America smiled. "Oh, if you wanna take a bath there's a bathroom down the hall," America told her. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."

America walked away, leaving Puerto Rico alone on her bed. She walked down the hall to the bathroom where there was a bucket of cold water and three buckets just shy of boiling. She poured them into the bathtub. Puerto Rico slipped off her torn, ragged dress and stepped into the tub. It felt nice to be able to get cleaned up.

Even though she had nothing to wear but her torn up dress, at least she felt much better now that she'd had a bath.

She wandered downstairs to find America in the dining room putting out plates of food on the table. There were so many strange dishes that she'd never seen before. Things like mashed potatoes and gravy, a big bowl of macaroni and cheese, a plate of fried chicken drumsticks, a giant slab of steak, and even a big apple pie all crowded the dining room table.

"What is this?" Puerto Rico asked. America raised an eyebrow at her.

"It's dinner!" America told her enthusiastically.

"I've never eaten any of this stuff before in my life," Puerto Rico admitted.

"You're about to now!" America told her. "What had Spain been making you eat all this time?"

"I've cooked for you before," Puerto Rico reminded him. "You should have an idea of what he'd been having me eat."

"I'm sure that probably included lots of tomatoes," America said as he sat down and began filling his plate with lots and lots of food.

"It did," Puerto Rico told him as she sat down at a chair next to him and began filling up her own plate with food, not sure what she should try first. She went with the fried chicken. It was the only thing on the table that looked remotely familiar. She bit into the juicy, crispy meat.

"Isn't that the best?" America asked. Puerto Rico couldn't help but smile from ear to ear.

"Can I ask you something?" Puerto Rico asked.

"Ask me anything!" America said as he began stuffing his face.

"I need something to wear other than this dress," Puerto Rico said quietly. "It has too many holes in it. Maybe we can get something new for me to wear?"

America put his fork down and shouted, "That's a great idea! I'll take you out tomorrow and I'll let you pick out anything you want!"

Puerto Rico didn't know what to think about that. This was the first time in her life where someone asked her what she wanted and actually took her seriously.

America kept his promise to take Puerto Rico into Manhattan to buy some beautiful dresses. The two of them had so much fun together during the day that they didn't even pay any mind to the glaring stares of people on the streets. Although New York was relatively progressive compared to the rest of the country, many eyes were not kind to the sight of a pale-skinned man hand-in-hand with an exotic-looking woman.

When they returned home from their day out in Manhattan, Puerto Rico went upstairs and put on one of the dresses America bought for her. It was blue and pearl-colored and went down to the floor. She sauntered down the stairs and into the living room and America couldn't take his eyes off of her.

"Wow," he gasped as she approached him until they stood face-to-face in the living room. "You look so hot right now."

Puerto Rico's face began to flush with fever. She laughed coyly at him as America began to take his arms around her waist. Now that Puerto Rico was in the arms of America, she knew there was no turning back. She leaned in until her lips met his. It was soft and not too spitty and she liked the feel of his arms around her.

"That was so hot," America said as they parted. Puerto Rico laughed lightly.

"Te amo, te adoro," Puerto Rico whispered.

"I have no idea what that means, but that sounds sexy," America told her.

"Te adoro means I adore you," Puerto Rico told him. "Te amo means I love you."

America learned in to kiss her again, and words were not needed any more.

**Of course, Puerto Rico would discover that every relationship has a honeymoon phase, and this phase with America was about to be short-lived. **

**SuperSailorCharon: Contest time! The first three people who leave me a review on any chapter will receive a cameo appearance alongside me in the final chapter! Again with NaNoWriMo it might take me a while to work on this story, but I WILL keep my promise and notify the winners of the contest promptly. **


	8. Dreams Don't Turn to Gold

**SuperSailorCharon: So far I would like to congratulate Kitten1313 for reviewing and being the first winner of the cameo contest! This chapter is dedicated to you! **

Puerto Rico loved spending time with America and living at his house. They took turns cooking for each other most nights. On her birthday, American would make Puerto Rico a red, white, and blue birthday cake to symbolize not only the colors on his flag, but on hers. America and Puerto Rico were inseparable.

There were times that America was there to protect Puerto Rico, even more than she realized.

_Night fell on the island and so did the water. Waves above her. Waves below her. Water threatened to swallow her and wrap her in a salty grave. Somehow the ocean carried her inland where she finally came to rest on the floor of the jungle. The faces of the dead still burned into the corridors of her memories. She wanted to scream, cry for help, but no words would come. _

Americacame home that night after a world conference to find Puerto Rico asleep on the couch and thrashing wildly and knocking the cushions off the couch.

"Whoa, you must be having a really scary dream," America noticed as Puerto Rico began to mumble and shout incoherently. "I'll fix that!"

America lifted Puerto Rico off the couch as she continued to thrash and yell. He carried her bridal-style up the stairs, trying not to drop her even if she punched him in the chest a few times, but he paid no mind. He carried her into his room and rested her body in the bed. He crawled under the covers next to her and took off his glasses, placing them on the nightstand. For the first time that night, Puerto Rico stopped writhing and her breath became even and quiet. He kissed her on the cheek and turned off the light on the nightstand.

They say all good things must come to an end. Puerto Rico's love for the cocky country didn't end in a giant blaze of glory. Instead, she fell out of love with him over time.

"It's freezing in this house!" Puerto Rico whined as she wrapped herself up in a heavy blanket. "Can't you turn on the heat?" She hovered over America's bed while America remained under the covers. His eyes were heavy and sad.

"I can't pay the heating bill and I'm too tired to get up and light a fire," American grumbled.

"You've been like this for a long time," Puerto Rico said, her tone changing to one of sorrow and concern. "I worry about you, mi vida."

"I'm depressed because my economy's going to hell," America mumbled, "and there's not much I can do about that. Oh, and it's snowing outside. I'm not going anywhere all winter. Screw that."

She wanted to tell him to quit being a baby and man up. But she could clearly see by the sorrow in those sapphire eyes that right now that would be asking too much.

"If you don't want to go out, we can stay here," Puerto Rico said softly as she crawled under the covers next to him. Normally, America would be all over her, unable to keep his hands off her, but lately he didn't want to touch her. At least for now they could keep each other warm on this icy January night.

It took a few years, but eventually America did get out of bed. And when he finally did, no one was more surprised than Puerto Rico.

"Where do you think you're going?" Puerto Rico demanded as America flew down the staircase while wearing his bomber jacket.

"I'm off to go kick Germany, Italy, and Japan's asses!" America announced. "I'm mad at Japan for bombing Pearl Harbor and so it's payback time!"

Several weeks earlier, Japan had launched an attack on Pearl Harbor. Apparently America had taken on the old moniker, "Don't get mad, get even."

"Don't worry! I'll come back a hero! I always do!" Puerto Rico followed America as he headed towards the front door, prepared to bomb him with questions about this sudden change in attitude.

With that, the door was slammed in Puerto Rico's face faster than she could say ¿Qué mierda? (Or "what the fuck" in Spanish) He left her alone once again where days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Eventually, she stopped counting on him coming back home. She watched the front door at night, but no one ever walked through.

Nights were cold and lonely. She sometimes went into America's room and laid on top of his bed, just to feel his presence for a little while. She missed being held by him in those strong arms. She missed hearing that laugh. She missed the adorable way his blond hair crested into a small cowlick in the front. She might've even gone so far as to say she missed the way he smelled (considering he smelled like meat most of the time, she was surprised that this was actually something she missed about him).

With America away, life was also incredibly boring. Not only was there no one to make her smile, but without America, it wasn't exactly safe for Puerto Rico to go into Manhattan all by herself. So she oftentimes stayed in. And when she stayed in, she got very, very drunk.

On the day when America finally came home, that was the first time he had wanted to touch Puerto Rico in years. But no matter how good that night was America would slowly begin to go back to neglecting Puerto Rico.

Just like Spain had done, America left an increasingly growing hole in Puerto Rico's heart. Anger and sorrow filled that hole. She retaliated to get his attention. She would take money out of his wallet when he was asleep at night (and America was so bad with money that he didn't even notice) and go on crazy spending sprees while he was away at conference meetings. She would buy provocative outfits with that money and wear them with the hope that he would come home at night madly in love with her again and ready to sweep her off her feet.

"Hey, you wanna make dinner tonight?" America asked her one night after he came back from a meeting where he pitched an idea on how to end world hunger. Puerto Rico sat seductively on the sofa wearing a skin-tight pink and black dress that showed off every curve. Her face curled up into a frown.

"Can't you do it? I did it for you every night this week!" Puerto Rico protested.

"Yeah, but I'm super tired," America told her. "Last night we had that conference that ran late and then I've been trying to lose weight at the gym, and then I wanted to finish my bomber plane so I can show it to Iggy and rub it in his face." He was met with knitted brows.

"You don't need to lose weight," Puerto Rico told him. "I'd still love you anyway."

"It's not about you," America groaned. "I'm not gonna make myself look like a fat slob in front of the other countries, so I work out like a maniac."

"This wouldn't happen if you'd cut out hamburgers," Puerto Rico reminded him.

"That ain't happenin'!" America laughed. "Look if you don't wanna make dinner, that's cool, but I'm hungry, so I'm gonna go down the street to McDonald's and then go to bed. If you want McDonald's too, you can come with me."

"Fuck that shit," Puerto Rico grumbled as she flopped off the couch.

And with that, Puerto Rico grabbed her purse and ran out the door to the nearest nightclub. Anything that would get him off her mind. Maybe she could make him jealous by flirting with an attractive stranger. At the very least, she'd get so drunk that she wouldn't have to face her loneliness anymore.

Maybe that was the thing that made her fall out of love with him. Or maybe it was his other little quirks: the candy-wrappers left on the floor, the fact that he would leave the TV on really loud at night, or maybe the fact that he would always bring people over to the house at the worst possible time.

"I thought you hated Japan!" Puerto Rico reminded America one cold December night as she began packing a suitcase full of clothes.

"Nah, he's cool now," America told her. "I pretty much forgave him for what he did to Pearl Harbor a long time ago."

"Do you have to have him over this weekend?" Puerto Rico protested.

"We already talked about this, you're going to San Juan for the weekend," America reminded her. "I thought that's what you wanted."

"Do you have _any_ idea what this weekend is?" Puerto Rico demanded. America stared at her blankly and Puerto Rico let out an angry sigh. "It's my birthday!" Puerto Rico reminded him angrily. America looked uneasy.

"I'm sorry, Puerto Rico," America said. "I'll make it up to you next weekend, I promise. I totally forgot!"

"See if I come back from San Juan!" Puerto Rico threatened.

"You'll be back," America told her. His mouth turned up into a grin. "You make threats like that all the time when you go to the club."

He was right. Puerto Rico did come back from San Juan at the end of the weekend. And to make up for forgetting her birthday, America bought her the biggest, shiniest diamond necklace at the jewelry store and made her a red, white, and blue cake.

If all the things America did for Puerto Rico to make up for forgetting her birthday were so wonderful, Puerto Rico couldn't understand why she was still bothered by him. No, "bothered" didn't describe it. "Disturbed" or "disgusted" sounded much more accurate at this point.

**SuperSailorCharon: That's all for now! I will be back with the last chapter in December. The winners of the reader review contest will be notified by message. **


	9. Estoy Enamorado De Ti

**SuperSailorCharon: I have returned! I finished my NaNoWriMo project five days early and I'll come back to it later to do the necessary revisions. This story might end up being stretched out a little longer than this chapter because there are so many ways I can play around with it. For now, the winners of the cameo contest ARE Kitten1313 and Chobi-chan89! Congratulations! You will appear in this chapter! I'd also like to take this opportunity to give a special thanks to all who are reading and commenting/following/favoriting. You rule! **

On the second-to-last night of the cruise, Puerto Rico walked back into the suite to find America. He looked like he was ready to go out dancing at the nightclub on the top deck. His sunburn hadn't totally healed, but he had more energy than he did the other day.

Puerto Rico knew exactly what was coming next, and she needed to confront it.

"Hey Puerto Rico!" America greeted excitedly. "I was wondering if you wanted to come dancing with me."

"America, I know what you're planning," Puerto Rico said quietly. She sat down on the bed. "I'm no fool. I know you're gonna propose to me at some point before the cruise ends. You've wanted to do that for a while."

"I know!" America said excitedly. "Tomorrow night I'm going to ask you to marry me in front of a bunch of people! Doesn't that sound like an awesome proposal? I was gonna keep it a surprise, but…"

"America, stop, please," Puerto Rico begged quietly. "This is a big step for me. I don't know if I _want_ to get married to you."

America's jaw hit the floor. The smile disappeared from his face and Puerto Rico could've easily pinpointed the moment where she ripped America's heart in two.

"What?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper. Tears filled his eyes. Puerto Rico had only seen him cry once before in her life. That was after the attack on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Something about those shiny sapphire eyes haunted her.

"I didn't say no," she reminded him. "I said I didn't know yet."

"Wh...why?" He stammered. "Was it something I did to make you mad, or what? Babe, you're not making any sense."

"Well, yes," Puerto Rico sighed. "When I first started to live with you, everything was amazing. And then you got depressed, and then went to war, and you started ignoring me all the time to go to conference meetings." She watched the tears roll down America's face.

"If you don't wanna get married, then why do you still live with me?" America wanted to know. Puerto Rico was taken aback. If there was one thing America wasn't known for, it was logic.

"Where else am I supposed to go?" Puerto Rico asked. "You've been letting me live with you for years because I don't have enough money to stand on my own ground, although sometimes I've seriously thought about leaving your house and just going back home and being done with it. Fuck the money."

"Then why haven't you done that already?" America asked. "If you don't want me, why didn't you go home already?"

"I dunno," Puerto Rico said with a shrug of her shoulders. "For a while I thought it was because you had money and living at your house was better than being home. I do want you. I love you, mi vida, I really love you. But you seriously piss me off sometimes," Puerto Rico told him. Tears formed in her eyes and trickled down her doll-like face. A silence that could only be measured in heartbeats passed between them. America sat down next to her on the bed and embraced her. He kissed her on the cheek.

"I don't mean to make you mad," he whispered. "I never wanted that. I try my best to make you happy. Wasn't that ever enough for you?"

"It was," Puerto Rico murmured tearfully. "Sometimes though, you really make me mad, like the time you forgot my birthday."

"I didn't mean to! I said I was sorry!" America reminded her. "Can't you just let that go already?"

"You're right," Puerto Rico sighed. Another long silence passed between them. "I will tell you what. Give me until tomorrow night to figure it out. If I decide to marry you, I'll stay at your house. If I don't want to, I'll pack my things when we get home, and get on the next flight to San Juan."

"You got it babe," America said, kissing Puerto Rico on the cheek again. The tears slowed for both of them. "Whatever you decide to do."

"Can I be left alone for a little while?" Puerto Rico asked.

"Yeah," America agreed. "I'll be back later."

Normally, going to the bar sounded like the perfect cure for her confusion, but tonight all she wanted to do was lie in bed. Puerto Rico changed into her pink silk negligee and crawled under the covers. The instant she turned off the light on the nightstand, she knew in her heart what the right answer was.

The next night, Puerto Rico gazed at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She put a little extra effort in her hair and makeup and wore a short, pink taffeta dress. Her heart pumped and thudded inside her ribcage, doing an anxious little dance. She stepped out of the bathroom and answered the knock on her door.

"Hey, I was looking all over the place for you!" America told her. He was dressed in a suit and tie. "You ready to go?"

"Si," Puerto Rico said quietly. Her voice was shy yet certain. America led her by the hand, and they made their way down to the lower deck. In the ballroom, the captain's farewell ball was in full swing. There was live music, lots of dancing under a crystal chandelier, a giant champagne tower, and a balloon drop. America and Puerto Rico sauntered past Kitten1313, Chobi-chan89, and SuperSailorCharon. The three girls danced while wearing adorable cocktail dresses.

The band stopped playing for a moment. America released Puerto Rico's grip and sauntered on the stage where he grabbed the microphone. The band looked very confused as to why this crazy blond guy was suddenly trying to steal the show. The crowds stopped and stared up at the stage. Puerto Rico stood just below the stage, knowing exactly what was coming.

"Hey dudes! Sorry to interrupt the captain's ball, but I have a huge announcement to make!" America said into the microphone. Puerto Rico couldn't help but grin. Her face flushed with pride.

"Rosalinda Suarez," America began. Puerto Rico was taken aback. The last time America used her human name was back in the 80's when the song "Rosalinda's Eyes" by Billy Joel had just come out. America stood beneath her bedroom with a boom box playing that song until Puerto Rico was convinced the neighbors would call the police. Of course, Puerto Rico was pissed because "Rosalinda's Eyes" is a song about a _Cuban_ woman, not a Puerto Rican. "You've lived with me for years. Now I'm thinking we take it to the next level. You already know what I'm gonna ask you, so I'll just ask it right now." America got down on one knee and pulled out the small black box. He flipped open the lid. Puerto Rico's eyes widened at the sight of the gigantic diamond set in a platinum band.

"Rosalinda," America continued, "will you marry me?"

"Si," Puerto Rico murmured. America hopped off the stage and slipped the ring on Puerto Rico's finger. "Si, I will marry you."

People cheered and applauded for the newly engaged couple. A few spectators wiped away tears of joy. Puerto Rico surrendered herself to America's embrace as she whispered the words, "Estoy enamorado de ti."

"I don't know what that means, but it's really hot when you speak Spanish to me," America told her.

"It means, 'I am in love with you'," Puerto Rico murmured seductively. She kissed him longingly and passionately over the chorus of the band playing their next song and the cheers of the spectators.


	10. Taking Care

**SuperSailorCharon: So here I am with a chapter that features an idea that isn't very original, but I wanted to see how the characters would handle it. Sorry if the title of this chapter isn't very original either, but here we go!**

Puerto Rico and America had been home from their cruise for three months. The day they came home, they were lucky enough to find that Tony hadn't burned the house down. Puerto Rico didn't mind America's alien friend, but there was something about him she just didn't trust.

Three months had also gone by since America proposed to Puerto Rico. Together, they were planning the wedding of the century.

"So dude! I was wondering you wanted to come to my wedding!" America said. He sat cross-legged on a mat in Japan's house.

"I am not sure," Japan said uncertainly. "If your wedding is rike many of your other sociar functions, I do not know how werr I wourd fit in."

"Come on! You had an awesome time at my Christmas party last year, didn't you?" American asked.

"Werr, I may not understand western customs, but I do find them intelesting," Japan said thoughtfully. "And I do think that a wedding is a vely important time in someone's life."

"So does that mean you'll go?" America asked eagerly.

"Yes, I am rooking forward to it," Japan said humbly. "It wirr be an honor."

"Sweet! Wait'll I tell my fiancé that you're gonna pay for the wedding!" America cackled as he raced out of Japan's house.

"That's not what I said!" Japan fumed, chasing after the loud, showy nation. Japan scolded himself for falling for _that_ trick again.

When America returned home from Japan's house, he found Puerto Rico reclining on the sofa watching Spanish soap operas.

"Hey babe!" America greeted.

"Hola," Puerto Rico said. She turned down the volume on the TV. "How did it go?"

"He totally bought it!" America laughed. "This wedding's gonna be so awesome! Everyone will be talking about it for years to come! It'll be bigger than my Christmas parties!" Puerto Rico grinned.

"I finally got my bridesmaids," Puerto Rico told him. "I asked Jamaica and Belarus." America's expression fell.

"W…why did you ask Belarus?" America stammered. "She's so creepy!"

Puerto Rico _knew_ Belarus was creepy. She had gotten to know Belarus when America invited her to stay with him and Puerto Rico after the fall of the Soviet Union. She didn't stay very long, and probably for the best, considering how often she and America argued. Yet despite the frail blonde nation's unstable mood swings and obsession with her older brother, there was something about Belarus that Puerto Rico liked.

"She's fucking crazy, but I kinda like her," Puerto Rico admitted. "Besides, you already asked England and Canada to be your groomsmen and I needed one more girl other than Jamaica to even it out."

"Whatever," America murmured. "I'm kinda tired. I'm gonna go to bed, okay?"

"I understand that," Puerto Rico said quietly. "You've had a very long trip."

America closed the door to his room where he took off his bomber jacket and changed into his pajamas. He crawled under the covers and shut off the light. Sleep claimed him quickly.

He woke up a few hours later with a feeling he had never experienced before. Every time he swallowed, his throat itched and burned. His head ached and throbbed. His nose dripped awkwardly yet it somehow felt clogged. Slowly, he attempted to rise out of bed, his body aching. Every inch of him felt uncomfortably warm, yet the moment he tossed the covers off, he froze.

Meanwhile, Puerto Rico was downstairs in the living room flipping through a bridal catalogue. For a girl who normally knew exactly what to wear, no one was more surprised than she was when she couldn't figure out what kind of wedding dress she wanted to wear on her wedding day. She glanced up from the magazine to find America standing in front of her. He was wrapped in a blanket and his face was very pale. His eyes and nose were bright red. Puerto Rico raised her brows in surprise.

"Puerto Rico," America murmured in a raspy voice. "I think I…I…" he interrupted himself with a ground-shaking sneeze. "I think I'm dying. I've never felt this way before."

Puerto Rico took a tissue from the box on the table in front of her and handed it to him. She didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

"You're not dying," Puerto Rico told America impatiently as he blew his nose. To America's dismay, the congestion didn't dissipate. "You just have a cold. Go back to bed. I'll take care of things."

Puerto Rico grinned. _I'll take care of you, too_, she added quietly in her head.

"You mean it?" America added, letting out a cough. He hated feeling pathetic and weak, especially in front of his fiancé. He was supposed to be her hero, but he couldn't save anyone in the state he was in. "You don't have to, but I really think I'm dying."

"You're not dying!" Puerto Rico repeated, her voice rising to an annoyed crescendo. Why was it whenever men caught colds, they always acted like they were having a heart attack?

Slowly, America trudged back up the stairs and crawled into bed. Puerto Rico was up there shortly where she waited on him hand and foot.

A memory of when Puerto Rico caught a cold crept up in her mind. Just a few weeks after America came back from war with Germany, Italy, and Japan, Puerto Rico came down with a cold that lasted for days on end. The only thing America did was bring her a cheeseburger, insisting it was the cure for everything. At the time, she wondered if anyone on earth could be any more inconsiderate.

_It's the thought that counts_, Puerto Rico thought to herself with a sigh. While America was asleep, Puerto Rico went across the street to McDonald's and ordered a hamburger to go. She brought it back up to America's room and set it on his nightstand.

"He shouldn't be eating junk food right now while he's trying to recover," Puerto Rico murmured quietly to herself, tiptoeing out of America's room. "But it's what he would've wanted."

The next morning, Puerto Rico slowly opened the door to America's room and peeked in to check on him. She glanced over and saw that the hamburger on the nightstand was gone, so that was at least a good sign that he was eating.

America sat up in bed scribbling something down in a notebook. He coughed and rubbed his runny nose with a tissue.

"Hey babe," America murmured. "I'm so sorry, but it doesn't look like we'll be getting married. I'm dying, so I'm writing my will."

"Oh God, you're being a big baby!" Puerto Rico moaned impatiently. "I'm going downstairs to make you a cup of tea. It'll clear up your nose and throat."

America shuddered. He didn't particularly care for tea despite having been raised by England.

Puerto Rico returned a few minutes later with a piping hot cup of tea. She set it down on the nightstand.

"So," Puerto Rico said in an attempt to humor her outrageous fiancé, "if you _are_ dying, did you leave _me_ anything in the will?"

"I haven't gotten that far yet," America told her. "I'm still making a list of all the countries that owe me money."

Puerto Rico let out a laugh before her nose itched slightly. Quickly, she took a tissue from the box on the nightstand and covered her nose and mouth before letting out a quiet sneeze. Her throat suddenly felt scratchy and raw.

"I think you gave me your cold," Puerto Rico said. She blew her nose as she made her way towards America's bedroom door.

"This is terrible," America said sadly. "We're both going to die. At least we're going to die together."

"We're not going to die!" Puerto Rico snapped. "I'm going to call Canada to come take care of us and keep the house clean while we're both sick."

"Good," America murmured, choking out a raspy cough. "Tell him that when we die, any money he owes us can be paid to Tony."

"_Callate_, shut up," Puerto Rico groaned irately. "Besides, _you're _the one who owes Canada money!"

"Ohh," America moaned, "my head hurts so bad it feels like it's gonna explode."

"You're really milking this, aren't you?" Puerto Rico asked. She sighed before shuffling down the stairs to pick up the phone and call Canada. She dialed his number.

"Hello?" Murmured a very soft voice on the other line.

"Canada, this is Puerto Rico," Puerto Rico said before letting out a slight cough. "America and I are both sick and we need someone to take care of things around the house until we get better. If you come by, I'll let you keep your ice cream in the freezer and I'll make sure America won't eat it."

"That sounds very nice of you," Canada said quietly. "I'll come over soon. I hope you feel better!"

"Gracias," Puerto Rico said before hanging up the phone. She ambled quietly up the stairs to America's room.

"America, I called Canada," she informed him. "He'll come by to take care of things until we're better. I'm going to go take a nice, hot bubble bath."

"If you die in the bathtub, can I move my stuff into your room?" America asked.

"It doesn't matter, _you're _going to die too, remember?" Puerto Rico added sarcastically.

"Oh yeah," America murmured sadly before exploding into a coughing fit.


	11. American Wedding

**SuperSailorCharon: Here it is: The last chapter in the story! I wanna thank everyone who's been following and basically still gave me a reason to continue this story! Anyway, enjoy! I don't own Hetalia. If I did, that'd be awesome, and I'd keep America and China all to myself. Enjoy!**

Luckily, America and Puerto Rico survived their cold, and were able to continue with the wedding preparations. The wedding would be held outdoors in the same place America threw his Christmas parties: right beneath the statue of liberty. There would be music and fireworks, and the reception would be a huge affair held at a huge ballroom in Manhattan. A bunch of the other nations were invited.

America, dressed in a white tuxedo, waited at the altar beneath the statue of liberty for the ceremony to begin. He stared out at the other nations who were already seated to witness this event. America turned his gaze up at the clear, starry night sky. He smiled widely, knowing that this was the beginning of a happy ending fit for a hero.

Many of the nations were surprised that they would be attending such an event, especially since no one ever actually took America for the marrying type. He was loud, boisterous, and in love with himself, so it was a huge surprise that he found a woman who was actually able to put up with him. But all the same, the nations were just glad to be invited, especially because there would be free booze afterwards.

Over the loud speakers, a rock version of the wedding march began to play. Sealand and Wy were the first ones down the aisle, walking side-by-side. America grinned; England didn't want the boy micro-nation anywhere near this wedding, but Puerto Rico thought Sealand was absolutely adorable and would've made the perfect ring-bearer. Then when they needed a flower girl, Sealand suggested that they ask Australia's little sister, a friend of his.

Sweden watched his adopted son walk down the aisle and the stern Nordic beamed with pride as he sat beside his "wife" Finland. Finland had tears in his eyes. Australia, on the other hand, reminded himself to pick up his adorable little sister and give her a big hug, despite how many times he knew she'd protest.

Next down the aisle were Belarus and Canada. She wore a blue dress and he was in a blue suit to match her. They walked down the aisle linking arm-in-arm, and poor Canada looked like he wanted get this ceremony over with as quickly as possible lest Belarus go on some sort of creepy nation killing spree. However, Belarus's gaze remained fixated on Russia who was sitting in the front row. She shot him a glance, making very clear her intention to get to him after the ceremony was over. Russia tried to hide the fact that he was trembling with fear.

Following them down the aisle were Jamaica and England, both wearing red. For England, it was an odd experience walking down the aisle with his former charge. The only time they had spoken since she had gotten her independence from him were the times he would come to visit island on vacation and she would yell at him to go away. Jamaica had a strong disdain for England, and when they walked arm-in-arm, she looked like she smelled something nasty the entire time.

Finally, all of the nations sitting down to witness the wedding slowly rose as Puerto Rico sauntered slowly down the aisle wearing a thin white halter with a string of diamonds sewn along the waist. The dress was long in the back and short in the front. She carried a bouquet of red, white, and blue roses in her hands. Instead of a traditional veil, she wore a crown of exotic flowers in her hair.

"Germany, isn't she beautiful?" Italy whispered, tears of joy in his eyes. The muscular blond nation merely nodded in response. "America must be so happy!" Italy continued to gush until Romano elbowed him in the rib to get him to be quiet.

France watched as the young Latina territory slowly approached the aisle, staring at her with a lustful look in his eyes. Hungary and Austria looked on adoringly at the beautiful bride before turning to each other with a glance of remembering what it was to be in love. Ukraine sat in the front row bawling her eyes out at the beautiful sight. Russia merely smiled, thinking about how everyone at this wedding, including the beautiful young bride, would all one day become one with Mother Russia.

Yet no one was more surprised than Spain, who watched with tears in his eyes as his little sister approached the altar to face her soon-to-be husband. It was impossible to believe that this beautiful woman was the same little girl he found on the island one day. And yet no matter how many times he assured himself he made her who she was, a stroke of sadness overcame him when he realized how terribly he hurt her when she belonged to him.

Puerto Rico and America stood and faced each other. Wy, Belarus, and Jamaica stood behind her while Sealand, Canada, and England stood behind him. Puerto Rico's brown eyes locked with America's blue ones, never once looking away.

Somehow, Puerto Rico lost herself in her mind while gazing into the pools of the eyes of the man she loved. Most women look at their wedding as the start of their lives. But Puerto Rico just saw this day not as a beginning, but as a reminder of all she had been through with America and just a jumping point for many more memories to be made.

Everyone sat back down while the priest performing the ceremony began with a long-winded speech about the power of love. Several passers-by who happened to notice the grand wedding beneath the Statue of Liberty stopped and gazed at the heart-warming sight. Many of those passers-by were American citizens, not realizing that the wedding was the joining of their personification and one of his territories.

Meanwhile, the priest still prattled on showing no sign of getting to the part with the actual vows. Several countries looked like they were going to fall asleep and Belarus, who was getting very tired of having to stand in one place while wearing four-inch heels, had snapped. She pulled a switchblade out of the bust of her dress and interrupted the priest, followed by gasps of horror from many of the nations.

"If you don't wrap it up, I will cut you open and gut you like a fish!" Belarus threatened with a sadistic, twisted smile on her face.

"Okay, uh…" the priest continued nervously. "Alfred F. Jones, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"Dude! Hell yeah!" America said eagerly.

"Rosalinda Suarez, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"Si," Puerto Rico murmured.

"By the power invested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride," the priest continued quickly and nervously, Belarus still pointing her knife at the priest. America and Puerto Rico shared a long, beautiful kiss and all of the other nations cheered. Ukraine still bawled her eyes out and even sassy Jamaica wiped away a tear of joy.

An hour later, after all the wedding photos had been taken, the nations gathered downtown in a hotel ballroom for what was bound to be one hell of a reception.

As the loudspeakers filled the ballroom with American rock music, America carried his new wife bridal-style into the ballroom. The other nations applauded as America and Puerto Rico took their seats at a long table where the rest of their bridal party was seated. After the first dance, the fun began. Puerto Rico flitted about the ballroom happily, watching the other nations eccentricities play out. As usual, everyone ignored Canada. England was arguing with _someone_ whether it was America, France, or any of his former colonies. Russia was nowhere to be found, and Belarus was hunting the ballroom madly for her brother.

"Big brother!" Belarus murmured as she sauntered past Puerto Rico. "I will find you! We will share a dance on the dance floor and become one!"

Puerto Rico laughed, and her attention turned to Australia who picked up little Wy and hugged her, ignoring the protests of the tiny micro-nation.

Puerto Rico was then approached by someone who once wanted to claim her as his own.

"Ma bell!" France greeted jovially upon seeing the Latina in white. "I bought a wedding present for you and Monsieur America!" He handed Puerto Rico a bottle of wine.

"Gracias," Puerto Rico said. "How'd you know I like wine?"

"Everyone _loves_ wine," the Frenchmen gushed.

"You wouldn't happen to have a bottle opener, would you?" She asked. But France wasn't paying attention. Instead, he was fixated on Puerto Rico's generous breasts. They weren't as impressive as Ukraine's, but they were supple and curvaceous nonetheless. Puerto Rico smacked France across the face.

"My eyes aren't down there, perv!" Puerto Rico fumed. She hunted the ballroom in search for a bottle opener when she approached the table that Italy, Germany, Japan, Prussia, and Romano all sat at. Italy was whining about how there was no pasta at this wedding reception and American food sucks almost as bad as English food.

"Does anyone here have a bottle opener?" Puerto Rico asked.

"Ve~," Italy gushed, "I have a bottle opener!" He handed her a bottle opener and she popped the cork on the wine bottle before handing the opener back to Italy.

"Finally, someone got him to shut up," Romano groaned, rolling his eyes. He munched on a tomato.

Puerto Rico knew she was Spain's little sister at some point, especially since seeing Romano munch on the tomato made her mouth water.

"You got any more of those?" Puerto Rico asked.

Without saying a word, Romano reached down for a tomato he stashed under the table. However, the box of tomatoes wasn't the only thing under the table.

Russia figured Belarus would never suspect he was hiding under a random table next to a box of tomatoes. Of course, he was wrong.

Belarus's head popped out of the box of tomatoes, spilling a few tomatoes under the floor.

"There you are, Big Brother!" Belarus cackled with a sadistic smile on her face.

Germany, Italy, Prussia, Romano, Japan, and Puerto Rico all stared at each other as Russia crawled out from under the table and stormed out of the ballroom screaming.

"What ze hell?" Germany asked.

"He wasn't awesome enough to be at this wedding anyway," Prussia said smugly.

"Big brother, that was so nice of you to share your tomatoes with the bride!" Italy beamed. "Can I have a tomato?"

"Fuck off," Puerto Rico snapped, biting into a juicy tomato. She'd only been in the same vicinity as Italy for a few moments and was already tired of hearing him talk.

Romano looked over at Puerto Rico and nodded approvingly.

But there was still someone Puerto Rico wanted to see.

"Hey Puerto Rico!" America greeted. "Come on! We're gonna cut the cake soon! I can't wait until we eat it!"

"Zat cake looks inedible," Germany pointed out, referring to the four-tiered red, white, and blue cake shaped like a heart and adorned with red, white, and blue frosting roses. "You should've had me make it."

Everyone stared at Germany as though he just announced he wanted to run around the streets of Berlin naked.

"Ignore zat!" Germany bellowed quickly.

Puerto Rico was about to say something when right on cue, the one person Puerto Rico was hoping to make right with all these years walked over to the table.

"Hermana," Spain said proudly. "Felicitaciones. Congratulations."

"Hermano," Puerto Rico began, "I didn't know if you were coming."

"How could I miss mi hermana's wedding?" Spain asked. "I wasn't sure if you were serious when you sent me the wedding invitation in the mail, but I knew I had to be there for you."

Over the loudspeaker, a song played that was an eclectic combination of rock and flamenco.

"America, would you mind if I dance with my sister for one song?" Spain requested.

"She's all yours, dude!" America said. "And then let's cut the cake!"

Puerto Rico rose slowly. Spain took her hand and led her to the dance floor where they danced the flamenco.

"Are you still angry with me for what I did to your island so many years ago?" Spain asked as they danced and effortlessly glided across the floor.

"No," Puerto Rico said. "I couldn't be. I thought you were still angry with me for ratting you out like that when America wanted to buy me."

"No mi hermana," Spain said. "I may have been hurt, but I don't hold grudges." He paused and added, "I'm very happy for you."

"I'm very happy for me, too," Puerto Rico boasted.

"Don't you just love happy endings, Romano?" Italy sighed contentedly, watching Spain and Puerto Rico dance.

"Shut the hell up," Romano snapped.


End file.
